We Weep For A Reason
by rainbowrider1290
Summary: What if "Weeping Angels" aren't just assassins with hearts like our exterior? What if we're more than that? What if we're trapped souls within the exterior being controlled by something we never wanted? There are many ways to cover one's eyes. We weep for a reason.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Well hey! So glad you chose to click on this lovely story, this is just an idea I formulated and would like to try out. . Hopefully you like! Any comments are greatly appreciated!**

 **Disclaimer: I wouldn't be writing FanFiction about my own show. I'll leave that to Moffat.**

They say we're deadly.

They warn to stay away, to fear us, to be wary when one of us is nearby, to watch for the swarm that surely accompanies.

They especially warn to not blink in our presence. Not that they need a reminder. They're always too terrified to blink. Some are even busy soiling themselves.

But what they don't realize, what they're too petrified to see, is that though they see an exterior of stone, our hearts are not made of such material. We are conscious, we feel, we see, and we suffer too.

The truth is, that no one knows what a "Weeping Angel" actually is. Not that we blame them, we haven't exactly been so kind to them, but hopelessness is a norm within this body of stone, and we've grown desperate.

So what is a "Weeping Angel" really? Well, I'll tell you. A "Weeping Angel" is a trapped soul. It is someone that was in a complicated circumstance that had no way out. A life of misery that we don't even _want_ to begin with; and I say "Weeping Angel" because that's not what we're called. We all have names. Of course, they're never used, because we can't even _look_ at ourselves or each other without ceasing to exist, but we have them, and like The Doctor's they'll never be heard.

 _Oh._ That's another thing. _The Doctor._ The mighty savior of the universe. The one who can find a solution to any problem, no matter how ridiculously complicated, and still survive. We're probably the only beings of this universe that he has not tried to help. The only ones he hasn't apologized to, or called us beautiful, or offered his help to. The thing is that we can't _do_ anything about it. We can't hate him, because he's right to fear us. We can't seek his help without sending it away. And we can't help ourselves because, what power do we have? And they say _he's_ the loneliest soul in the universe.

Now, I said we had names. I meant before. Before this "life" came to be. Oh yes, we were lives back then. We used to run away from what we would soon become, and before we understood.

Now, for _you_ to understand. (And yes, of course I'm breaking the fourth wall, I'm sort of trying to raise awareness on our problem, and see if this somehow gets to The Doctor) There's a story I need to share.

And one more thing you should know; There are many ways to cover one's eyes, and even then we don't truly _have_ to. We weep for a reason.

 **A/N: I have plans for this story, and it is something I plan to develop. Thanks for reading the first step of what will hopefully be a longer story! Like I said, comments are extremely appreciated!**

 **-rainbowrider1290**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Oh good! you've decided to continue reading the story! Here's what I came up with:**

 **Disclaimer: Nope. I don't even wish it so.**

It literally started one day when I - well - existed. That's really the only way I can put it. Though not in the way a tree, or a person exists. I just… was. I had no physical texture, but I was conscious, aware of my surroundings, and felt my own presence. I remembered my life before that moment, but there were pieces missing.

I was in a park, beside a stump made of stone. No one was there. I felt tranquil, like nothing had changed a few moments before. I was convinced that I wasn't dead strictly because I could still feel my presence in my surroundings, and there was no bright light. At least I _think_ there wasn't. Then I heard a noise.

To this day I don't know what that noise was, but in the very instant I heard it, I felt threatened. Not just startled, I felt like if I didn't do something, I would disappear. So an instinct I didn't know I had kicked in. Something activated within me and in a click, I grew a physical presence. I triggered it like it was the most natural thing in the world, but I had never done it.

I felt fear, panic, and an overwhelming urge to stay perfectly still. To my right comes a runner with a dog and I relax. I try to move, but strangely, my instincts scream at me not to. Ignoring the thought, I remember detaching my right leg from my left as the runner stopped and turned his head.

The next thing I felt was searing pain.

Pain in its purest form traveling up my right leg, I tried letting out a terrific scream, but nothing came out. So I stood there, immobilized with fear, with the runner dismissing the thought that he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. He just went on his way with his dog as if I didn't feel like I was being burned alive.

 _What is happening to me?!_ Screamed my thoughts.

Looking down at where my right leg was _supposed to be_ , the amount of anxiety I was getting at the time was enough to make anyone collapse as I noticed that below it stood a pile of crumbled stone. I won't even _tell_ you about how terrified I was when I saw that I was fully made of stone. The best I can describe it is _Indescribable fear._

* * *

For a while, I stood there doing a handful of things within my mind. I was contemplating my terror to move again, I was retracing my steps, trying to remember anything before I started to simply _exist._ Nothing was coming up. It was like something on the tip of my tongue that I was so close to figuring out, like the answer was staring me right in the face.

Getting over my fear of movement, my instinct letting me move again, I decided to try something. Feeling my body vanish into thin air, I moved, quite quickly I might add, and before I knew it, I was in the middle of the park.

 _Well, then._

I was about to move again when that familiar mental stab at the back of my mind was set off again, and I froze, energy travelling down my limbs forming my physical presence that I didn't question until later.

I heard steps, meaning that someone was watching me. It's like a static alarm of slight anxiety in your head once you get used to it. You're not even sure when they come or leave, ( _Or blink)_ it's just instinct.

Anyway, I was frozen in the park, and there were steps. They were _coming closer_ and this was when I started to fear again. The steps slowed, and I could feel their eyes travelling all around me (quite frankly, I felt extremely uncomfortable). For a split second, I felt my instincts release me, and my first response was to try and leave. Though something happened right then that I will never forget (and am slightly embarrassed about to this day).

As I was moving to get away, I felt my hand touch the person to my side while turning to run, and an enormous surge of energy. Like something slightly cool and energizing was being sucked through my arm and being delivered through my core. It felt like my entire being was inhaling and exhaling in satisfaction.

I felt _power._ A twisted sense of maniacal joy like a shot of adrenaline _._ I didn't know that this was something I _craved_ until my first taste of it. Suddenly, I didn't feel afraid or anxious. All of my fears had vanished.

Though that was quite short-lived, because when I turned around to the source of this _delicious_ feeling, I was horrified to find that there was no sign of the person. After being sure there was no one around, my "sixth sense" releasing its grip on me, I looked around. There was no way that the person could've run in any direction without being seen.

Now here's the horrifying part. Something sticky was covering my fingers. Something _red._ _Dripping. Off. My. Fingers_. The ones that had barely skimmed the person.

I was convinced that there was no one else around, because why else would I have been kneeling on the ground, feeling like I was going to throw up but _couldn't_ , feeling asphyxiated, but not having breathed at all-

 _That's it._

 _That's one of the things I was missing. The thing staring me straight in the face._

I felt fear, panic, and an overwhelming urge to stay perfectly still, but there's one thing I didn't hear. My heart. My blood pounding in my ears, my lungs burning. I didn't feel any of what I should have felt.

I tried to scream, attempting to release whatever demon had taken hold of me, but all that was released was silence. _Silence that rang out, echoing through my insides,_ a deathly shriek that would later become the subject of a cruel irony. This was the sound that would become my laugh for the centuries to come.

* * *

 **A/N: I have this theory that even when no blood is spilled, these beings have their victim's blood on their hands. Symbolic or literal. Next chapter will hopefully explain why we don't see it. Thanks for reading!**

 **\- rainbowrider1290**


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you all _so_ much for following, reviewing, and favouriting. It makes me all warm and fuzzy enough to keep writing. Which leads me to my next point. I sincerely apologize for not updating sooner, but I should warn y'all of the following: The semester has begun, updates will be irregular, and there will be large time gaps. You have been warned, and I'm truly devastated that I can't just write forever and ever. So here's my latest chapter! I appreciate any and all comments you may have. Especially constructive criticism.**

 **Disclaimer: Nope. No reality bomb could make this true.**

* * *

I was convinced I wasn't dead, but at the same time, I wasn't so sure. I had just made a person disappear completely. And I was left with blood on my hands.

I found myself within another park. More stones lined the grass, except this time, there were people standing around with flowers in their hands.

Before I continue, there's an important thing you need to know: My lack of a pulse wasn't the only thing staring me straight in the face when I fled that grass patch full of stones, but we'll get to that later.

Anyway, with the familiar alarm in my head, my physical form burst into existence as I closed my eyes, noticing that my leg was back. Back then, I didn't really care to ask why, it wasn't very important in the face of the nightmares I was currently facing.

The second I closed my eyes, I could see beyond the world in front of me. I saw the world within me. Every single nightmare and fear I held was personified and played for me as though I were re-living every single one.

I saw people's throats sliced open and their souls leaving their bodies. I saw creatures torturing other innocent beings. How I could tell the difference, I wasn't sure. I saw more people. Except these people weren't like the others. I could feel an energy radiating off of them that drew me to them. An energy that I wanted to feel instead of these nightmares. I couldn't move, and they were being ripped away from me. I couldn't see them anymore and I felt alone. Hopeless as the energy was slowly drawn away from me.

I forced myself to open my eyes and prayed that no one was looking. Then the scream that I was once prohibited from releasing began to ring out through my entire being. It wasn't just a loud sound. It was a shriek that would have sent shivers down any spine. It was something so horrifying that I had to resist the urge for my hands to fly up to my ears. People were watching.

I felt the fear that was laced with that scream.

My lack of pulse only served to unnerve me more. The fact that I couldn't release this fear was what multiplied it, and adrenaline began to pump through my… Oh, right.

Glancing around as my sixth sense allowed me, there was someone with their back turned to me. Many, actually.

I needed the screaming to stop. So I did the unthinkable. At the speed of light, I jumped from my place and reached as quickly as I could. My fingers touched the person closest to me and I felt that familiar rush of power and invincibility. And with it, I noticed that the screaming had diminished to a volume which was still slightly audible, but tolerable.

An internal sigh of relief followed as the extra energy was sucked into my arm and distributed through the rest of my body.

Thank you, I thought to no one in particular. The blood dripping from my fingers served as a reminder for what I'd just done, and I was terrified of it.

* * *

I stood there with my arm stretched out for a long while, to any bystander looking like I was pointing at something. I refused to close my eyes this time.

Time became an illusion, as the sky was black by the time I was alone. The creaking of metal gates behind me sounded, and a padlock being sealed to those outside.

In the dark, I was able to look down and see yellow… sparkles? bubbles? fireflies? coming from my leg. They surrounded it and I felt relief juxtaposing the incredible pain I had felt not long ago. The firefly-like particles also surrounded my fingers where the blood previously marked my condemning act. They glowed brighter and brighter around the damaged areas and were gone, as quickly as they'd come, leaving perfect, clean stone behind.

Amazed, I tried moving slowly this time, my arms moving gracefully, and my torso twisting in order to give them a bigger range of motion. My wings spread out to their full length behind me and I appreciated the miracle of stone moving equal to a swan. Despite the screaming in the back of my head, the sound of stone grinding against stone was still present and it felt amazing to move again without feeling like fear was stepping on my toes. Laughter bubbled in my chest, but all that was released was that horrifying shriek. Instinctively, my hands flew up to my mouth, as the reality of my situation came back to me.

It was good while it lasted. I thought as the smile slowly turned sad and I returned to my position and remained still.

* * *

I began to grow a liking to that spot in that park. It was peaceful, undisturbed, and the sight of people simply milling with their flowers was calming for a while.

Then the nightmares began again. I didn't even have to close my eyes, but I couldn't switch from my mind's eye to seeing reality. It was there, and I was aware of it, but the screaming and my fears were the most vivid.

People being tortured, killed, and terrorized played through my mind again. Their screams more audible than my own. The same group of people with that special energy being ripped away from me again and the feeling of hopelessness that followed like I had hit rock bottom. Except this time, there was more.

Other people in front of me, except it was me being ripped from them. A flaming car in which a child was trapped within his seatbelt and where he will forever remain. The immense guilt triggered from that look of utter fear in the child's eyes as the car was consumed beyond salvation. The words there was nothing you could've done echoed as well. But there was. The infamous feeling of an ending that wasn't supposed to happen.

A stone with a name in front of me. It was small, and the flowers in my hand felt heavy. The intense depression and the death of both spirits.

That's what I felt. My stone became heavier as it played.

The nightmares multiplied, burying me in my prison of self-hate. I felt their pain, their depression, the horror that burned like an untamable fire.

No tears could be released, I couldn't sob for these people whose lives I had ripped away for my own needs. More people sob because of what I had done, they cry the tears that I cannot. They release the energy that I have pent up. I can't release it because I don't know how. Anger wraps around these fears and courses through the stone.

I can't do this. I can't DO THIS! I think as I crumble inside and to bystanders I look like an emotionlessly peaceful guardian.

WHY did this HAPPEN to ME?! The terror is going to consume me, and I honestly wouldn't mind. I would join those beneath the stones lining the park, which I later learned was called a cemetery.

I was convinced I wasn't dead, but I honestly wish I was now.

* * *

 **A/N: Whew! That was fun, more explanations coming in the next chapters. See that little cute box right down there that says "review"? In no way will I force you to press it, but I would really appreciate anything you have to say. Like I said, _Especially_ constructive criticism.**

 **Thank y'all!**

 **-rainbowrider1290**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: First of all... *hides to avoid being hit with incoming objects for not updating* I'm sorry. Thank you to those who have stayed and reviewed. You know not how much I appreciate it even after months of nothing. This is what I meant when I talked about the irregular schedule. Thank you all so SO much again for sticking with it, and again, I'm sorry you've had to wait so long.**

 **Disclaimer: Ha!**

* * *

So that's probably the most depressing part of my so-called life. Now let me move on to a more interesting segment in which we skip over countless more scenarios of the same screaming, suffering, guilt multiplied, and so on. It gets quite tedious after a while if I'm totally honest. The intensity doesn't diminish, but it now comes with a tint of boredom. Like when crying over someone who you know isn't worth the tears.

Anyway, a long time had passed of me wondering why I had been made like this, other depressing questions I stopped asking, deaths I stopped counting, and then I learned what happens beyond the initial unbearable pain when I don't feed. This was sometime after the first time I was imprisoned. People can be oh so cruel, I'm just thankful I got some of the less intelligent ones my first time.

Starting out, I simply thought something along the lines of _joke's on them, they won't see me moving anytime soon,_ but they were patient. More patient than I thought. In fact so patient that I didn't think they wanted to see me move. The irony of trapping me while already in a prison became cruel really soon.

Sure, the nightmares soon reached a point so unbearable that the echoing screams were solace in comparison to the emotions, but that's really not the point. The thing I found interesting amidst my fear was that instead of _owning_ the stone body, I became a small, meek presence within it, and it was then that I fully appreciated the meaning of the word "prison". And it wasn't like an out-of-body experience, it was a _within-_ body experience.

I had a physical presence that wasn't stone, but I could feel the stone that used to be my skin under my hands as the nightmares and emotions flew around erratically, causing flickers of light here and there, allowing me to catch a glimpse of the inside of my stone exterior. Cowering in a corner as though in the same cave as a beast in which a specific set of nightmares, the very first ones I'd ever experienced, came closest in the darkness. They were familiar and that was the closest thing I had to comfort at the moment.

The nightmares flew around the confinements of the stone, crashing into the stone as if wanting to be released.

I don't know for how long I was in that state before I started physically pounding on the stone. I'm not sure you understand that I was actually, not metaphorically or symbolically, trapped within my stone exterior as a human (though I was distracted enough to fully process this). I'd like to make that perfectly clear.

 _Please,_ I begged to no one in particular, because that's another thing: I still couldn't scream.

They say solitary confinement is the worst punishment, but it's better than being forced to bottle everything. Good or bad. Those feelings you get when you're so happy or sad you could explode unless you cry, laugh, break down, or talk to someone about it? Stuck. Bouncing around, as my pleas of instinct started to echo within the walls as well.

 _Please!_ Hit.

 _Make it stop!_ Hit.

 _PLEASE!_ Hit.

It was a cycle.

 _Please._ Hit.

Until I grew weary and any other human would say they'd run out of tears to cry. I'm not sure if my captors were ever intending to kill me, but they sure weren't intending for me to move.

 _Please._ Hit.

 _Why?_ Hit.

The hits weakened.

 _Please._

Hit.

But like a bird atop a diamond mountain…

 _Please._

Hit.

I'd eventually made a dent in the stone.

 _Please._

Hit.

And crumble?

Another hit, my strength more prominent in the change.

And crack?

 _Have I been answered? Have I learned my lesson?_

Then the yellow sparkles came again. Another source of light that only served to taunt me.

And instead of the stone now, it was my hope that crumbled. The stone above me, below me, and all around me was cracked, but sparkling in yellow.

They did eventually all blink at the same time, but it took a while. That or I was a tad distracted. Either way, this is what I remember with a shiver, cursing for the _nth_ time whoever thought teaching a nightmare how to reproduce was a good idea. I dented their little tin prison and trapped them all inside. Despite my desperation, I wasn't going to be merciful, or _kind_ with them in letting them live in another time.

With all the boasting humans do, it's spectacular how they hadn't got very creative in their imprisonment methods. They did eventually think of better ways, but when I was subject to them, I couldn't even bring myself to think anything like _oh no! What will I do now?_ Instead, it was more along the lines of _it took you long enough._

Long story short, it's not very different. Just more of the same stuff that sort of starts to drive one insane.

* * *

One time they put me in front of a mirror, and not only did I feel the stone within me actually start to crumble from starvation, but my inner self, my personified soul actually started laughing. A madness that somehow amplified and placated the fear I felt. Needless to say, it was a _weird_ combination.

* * *

Though they started getting clever after that. And not just the humans (yes, it was literally sometimes us against the universe). They shoved me in another tin can like any other before, but before I could start bringing any sarcasm out, I felt it in fuller force than ever before.

My sixth sense, the instinct that told me when to and not to move, was going as insane as I would soon go. Then I realized why.

I slightly admired the patience for, as it was hard enough to capture _one_ of us, let alone _two._ As in front of me, stood an almost perfect copy of myself. Stone wings, same shade of grey, empty, _uncovered_ eyes, and a look of neutrality that had a hint of surprise behind it. I got to know this face quite well as we both gained new cracks and our stone crumbled when we saw them form.

This was a conundrum I couldn't solve alone, so it was quite convenient to me, once my form had cracks so deep I started to feel them as more than just crumbling walls within, that some blessed idiot came barreling through space-time with a machine that was falling apart, allowing a moment of peace from my instincts, and what I knew would be some nice screams of frustration from the team that kept us there. I have to admit though, I would miss that face. It was the only time I wasn't completely alone.

Somehow, that was the only time the Doctor saved me _and_ condemned me instead of just condemning me.

These memories are what I purposefully focus on among the ruckus in my mind in my new prison. They think that bunkers and cells are what keep me sometimes. But it was never the confinement, it was the cameras that kept me rooted to my spot until they all blinked. Not a common event, hence only four seconds of movement. I only moved to freak them out in all honesty. I knew it wouldn't do much. I could _feel_ their fear through the walls every time they found me in a new position and frankly, it was a hilarity that made my time imprisoned somewhat tolerable, and my inner soul cackle in her madness despite the nightmares growing louder. Still I knew what was coming.

But then that girl… In _colour…_ It had been so long since I'd seen colour… I almost had trouble matching her to the colour _red…_ wandered in and then gave me a way out through the windows to her soul that we lack and at the same time don't. This red girl was a key that the Doctor himself practically _handed over_ in the midst of what the humans called "research" _._ And there was no way I would let it - _her -_ pass me by.

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for the read! Any comments are greatly appreciated, and thank you again to those who've made it all the way to chapter 3. Until next time!**

 **rainbowrider1290**


End file.
